At my parents’ apartment building they have an exercise room. There’s a couple treadmills, two stationary bicycles, a weight machine and a rack of dumbbells. The room is very cramped, but is usually empty as the median age of the building is about 86. But the other day I went in there and a man was running furiously on the treadmill trying to work off those holiday pounds. I waved hello and he grunted back. As the door closed I realized the room was exceptionally musty. Usually there is air conditioning in the room, but the man’s drive for exercise had somehow raised the temperature of the entire gymnasium. It was like a steam room. My feet could barely keep traction as so much sweat was dripping from me. I checked the thermostat. It read 72 degrees, but it felt like the bayou in July. The next time I used the room it was empty and a comfortable temperature. I have tried to track this runner down as I feel he could be the solution for alternative forms of energy.
But this answer to our dependence on Mideast oil is not the most interesting person I ever made the acquaintance of in a rinky dink apartment gym. I was at a friend’s apartment in Los Angeles and we were talking about movies coming out that we wanted to see. My friend stated the movie he wanted to see was The Punisher. I looked behind me and saw a man walking on the treadmill wearing a hat with the Punisher logo. I politely asked the man, “Did you work on the movie?”
The man said not a word and simply pointed at the logo on his hat. I asked him in what capacity he worked on the movie. “Were you part of the crew?” He gave me a look as though he wanted to kill me. An hour or so later my friend and I went to the pool where some girls were talking about how they saw John Travolta at the building. My friend mentioned to them that we saw him at the gym walking on the treadmill.